


The Former Host Club President is the Submissive Type!

by Edgelord (lostlikeme)



Series: Confessions, Condoms, and the Host Club! [5]
Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Cock Rings, Creampie, Crying, Cuckolding, Daddy Kink, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moresomes, Multi, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgy, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-13 23:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7142138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlikeme/pseuds/Edgelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can be read as a standalone or as part of the series.</p><p>It’s Tamaki’s birthday but he’s been bad. Haruhi gets him a present from the entire Host Club anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Former Host Club President is the Submissive Type!

Haruhi has never done it like this, but she’s grown used to seeing all the people she loves at once. Kyouya won’t admit he’s here because he’s soft on Tamaki, and the twins wouldn’t tolerate him this much if they really hated him. More importantly, they’re all soft on her, even Mori-senpai. Nobody owns anybody when everybody owns each other. 

“Looks like the king has finally hit rock bottom,” the twins say unanimously. 

Despite all the talk, Kaoru can’t even look at where Tamaki is bound and gagged across the room. Haruhi observes him without reservation or reaction. Any perceived attention is considered encouragement. Even with a few yards between them Haruhi can see big, dramatic tears welling in his eyes. He thrashes against the rope until he rubs his wrists raw and his face is pink.

Hikaru laughs. “Maybe if he didn’t come so soon Haruhi would let him join in!” 

Kaoru cackles. “Premature ejaculation.”

Tamaki screams into the makeshift gag; the panties Haruhi slipped off just a few moments before. He swings his head wildly from side to side. 

Kyouya sighs, forced to answer honestly in the face of his friend’s tantrum. 

“He is rather lacking in technique.”

When Hikaru kisses her, Tamaki grimaces. What little is left of his ego shrivels and wilts. His body goes limp in the chair and he doesn’t bother to look up. 

Honey wags his finger. “Uh-oh,” he glances to Mori for confirmation. “Tama-chan is jealous.”

“I think you’re right Honey-senpai. If I kiss Hikaru, I should kiss everyone.”

Tamaki’s head swivels in her direction, eyes wide. Kyouya is standing behind him, one hand in his hair and one down his pants. Honey stretches from the tips of his toes and Haruhi bends her head to touch their lips. He squeezes her chest and she fights a blush. 

“Why is Tamaki in trouble Haru-chan?” Honey asks, eyes wide.

Haruhi startles at Mori’s light touch around her shoulders. Didn’t Kyouya brief everyone beforehand? Or was that her job? It’s hard to remember when her skin is heating up like a hotpot.

“Daddy hasn’t been behaving,” Kyouya answers, fisting Tamaki in his underwear. “So he doesn’t deserve a reward.”

When Tamaki looks that desperate she almost wants to let him off easy. Almost. Haruhi turns to her boys and Tamaki wails behind her. 

They don’t all penetrate her; they don’t really have to. Mori works his tongue against her slit and curls his long fingers when Haruhi needs him to, until she’s soaked his hand and the sheet beneath it. Honey teases her front, pulling back the hood of her clit with his small thumb. Tamaki stomps his foot on the floor when Honey pulls a nipple into his mouth. 

Haruhi makes the mistake of glancing in his direction. His chest is heaving against the bindings and the chair is inching forward, scraping the floor. 

“See what I mean?” Kyouya says, motioning to Tamaki’s devastated expression. “Everything we tell him goes in one ear and out the other.”

Hikaru and Kaoru make a show of kissing Haruhi in turns, open mouth with tongue. There’s a synchronicity even she can’t match. The first to penetrate her is Hikaru, pushing and pulling her against the futon on the floor while Kaoru occupies her mouth. When Hikaru finishes inside her, Tamaki falls face forward in the chair. Hikaru snickers when he hits the ground and Kyouya hums and shakes his head, but nobody moves to help him.

“He did have that coming,” the younger twin admits, voice drawn back with guilt.

Kaoru is next, taking his brother’s place between her splayed legs. Mori brushes the hair from Haruhi’s face and she tightens up halfway through trying to thank him. Honey is already satiated, spent against his stomach as he works Mori’s cock beside her. She wants to touch him but the angle is no good and Honey is sucking him off already, taking him all the way into the back of his throat. 

Haruhi turns her head as Kyouya pulls the chair upright, lifting Tamaki from where he’s sobbing, cheek scuffed against the hardwood. The gag has fallen away, but Tamaki doesn’t have the coordination to do much more than cry as Kyouya, too, abandons him.

“Is he always this much of a crybaby in bed?” Hikaru teases.

Kyouya stands with a foot on either side of Haruhi’s shoulders while Kaoru grips her thighs and looms closer to the edge. Haruhi swallows when Kyouya unzips his pants. 

“Suck me off, Haruhi?”

Haruhi rolls her eyes as he lowers himself to his knees, straddling her chest with his cock in hand. She doesn’t spend a lot of time comparing but Kyouya’s is paler, pinker at the top; rigid where Tamaki’s curves.

She relents, eyeing Kyouya. “Don’t get pushy,” she warns, propping herself onto her elbows.

Despite her complaint Kyouya is exceedingly polite. He waits for Haruhi to move at her own pace, fingers trembling against her scalp but never pulling her hair. He warns her before he comes and pulls out, semen splashing the space beside her head. Kaoru ejaculates next, flooding her with a second sticky load. 

Haruhi watches Tamaki while she catches her breath. He’s the perfect picture of pathetic: hard and wet and weeping. Kaoru pulls out and Kyouya helps her up. In the time it takes Haruhi to reach him she’s already begun leaking down her thighs. Tamaki sucks snot back into his nose and his eyes soften around the edges. 

“Haruhi, you’ve been mean to me,” he says brokenly.

Tamaki’s cock is fully exposed, coloring at the tip. The base is cinched tight with neatly tied ribbon, courtesy of Honey-senpai’s accessory collection and Kyouya’s handiwork. His cock dabs his stomach as he waits for her to touch him.

“Is that true, senpai?” Haruhi’s voice doesn’t waver as she settles onto his lap and nuzzles his neck.

“You left Daddy all alone,” he says between tears. 

Tamaki thinks he’s whispering, but he’s never mastered the skill. The entire host club listens with varying levels of interest. Honey-senpai is sucking on a lollipop and Kaoru is pretending not to watch her coddle their king. 

“Do you really think Hikaru is better than me, Haruhi?”

She has certainly never said so, but she may have acquiesced Hikaru when he was six inches inside her. Haruhi sinks onto him soaked and sloppy. Tamaki cries out when he slides in, Haruhi can feel the cum seeping out between her legs. 

“No one could ever replace you,” she tells him truthfully.  


Tamaki snivels and Hikaru turns over on the futon a few feet away. It doesn’t take long for Tamaki’s muscles to spasm. He tries to reach for her but the rope stops him. 

“Haruhi I’m going to-to--”

He can feel the ribbon around the base of his cock loosening with the soft brush of her fingers. There’s no way he’s going to last if she unties the knot and releases the tension. He’s had to watch her share herself with all five of his friends. 

Haruhi bows her head to breathe against his neck. “Can you wait for me, senpai?” 

Tamaki always looks his best when he’s overwhelmed. To his credit, Tamaki manages a tight nod. He screws his eyes shut and tilts his hips to get better leverage. His cock stretches her open as he strains against the ties. He rests his head against her chest, hair brushing her nipples.

“Daddy can wait if it’s for you, Haruhi.” 

For a moment, this feels like another fantasy she’s gotten carried away with. No rose petals this time. Tamaki jerks his hips and Haruhi gasps. She contracts around him and Tamaki’s cock twitches in response. Hikaru glances in their direction when she tells Tamaki not to stop. 

“Haruhi,” Tamaki says, voice raspy from crying.

He doesn’t elaborate but Haruhi notices the full body tremor. The chair is stifling his movements, forcing him to strain. Haruhi begins a bounce from her thighs and tilts her head to kiss him. He groans against her mouth while she mounts him, grinding her hips in a circular motion when his cock is fully seated inside her. 

She accepts every part of him like this. “Do it inside me, okay?”

Tamaki’s orgasm erupts as she tightens around him, blunt nails scraping his back. Haruhi’s hands fly to her clit and she convulses, palm pressed tightly to her skin as the aftershocks consume her. 

Tamaki starts crying before Honey finishes untying the ropes. When Tamaki wraps his arms tightly around her the rest of the host club crowds around them, quiet. Hikaru sits closest to Tamaki, staring at the ceiling. Kyouya places a hand on Tamaki’s shoulder and his whole stance becomes lighter.

“Happy birthday,” Mori tells him.

Everyone turns at the sound of his voice. The moment is almost surreal: the way the sunlight falls through the sheer curtain, the vanilla candle burning in the kitchen and the tear streaks beneath Tamaki’s devoted eyes. 

Haruhi opts to hold him a little while longer. Some moments are precious.

***

“You won’t get pregnant, right?”

“What kind of stupid question is that? I’m obviously on birth control idiot!”


End file.
